That’s it. That’s really it. My stomach drops and I feel like I’m going to be sick. There isn’t any coming back from this.
It’s not like I can piece it back together and sell it to someone else. It’s not like Diedre can post it online for me and try to find a buyer. It’s not like any of the hopes and dreams that I finally thought were coming true will.
No.
My chest cracks, shattered like the blue glass pieces around me. All that blue glass looks like my heart’s blood. Because blood is blue, isn’t it? At least, it is until you’re bleeding.
I almost hate myself right now. For six years I didn’t really dream or think about the better things we might have. I just worked hard and accepted things as they were. But finally, finally I let myself imagine, and this morning I thought we’d made it. But I was wrong. And now that it’s been taken away, it hurts. It hurts real bad. I wish that I’d never dreamed of it or thought about all we could have, because if I hadn’t believed in it, then it wouldn’t hurt when it was taken away.
I wipe my hand against my cheeks, wiping the hot, wet tears away. Then I look up at Gavin. He stares at the mess around me.
“I’m still charging you,” I say, a painful lump in my throat. “I delivered. Payment upon delivery.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “I felt bad…then you had to go and ruin it.”
I push to my feet and wipe my bloody hand on my overalls. Gavin watches and then winces.
“Pay up.”
He shakes his head. “This will have to be cleaned. I’ll pay the cleaning fee and then we’ll be square.”
“Like hell.”
He frowns at me. “I seem to remember paying you ten percent up front. Be happy I’m not asking for that back.”
I cross my arms and shake my head mulishly. “I’m not leaving ’til you pay.”
He might not ever pay. But what do I have to lose by trying? Nothing.
Gavin walks around me, and I try not to wince when his shoes crush the glass under his feet. It feels like he’s crushing my heart. He sighs and then lifts his phone. I tap my foot as he types something in and taps the screen. “I’m calling the cleaning service. You’ll have to move when they arrive.”
I lift an eyebrow. Yeah. Good luck with that.
He holds his phone up to his ear. In exactly three seconds my phone starts to play “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Granny keeps changing my ringer. She thinks it’s a big laugh. Gavin stares at me, but he hasn’t caught on yet. I lift my phone out of my pocket and hit answer.
I glare at him as I say into the phone, “Mountain Top Cleaning Services, how may I help you?”
Gavin swears and hangs up.
“Rude,” I say into the phone.
He paces back over the glass. I’m the only cleaning service in town, and now he knows it.
He swings around and glares at me. “Fine. I don’t need it cleaned up. I’m leaving. You can sit in here until you rot for all I care. I’m not coming back.” He stalks towards the door, and then probably at the same time I do, he remembers that he gave his rental car to his ex-fiancée.
I smirk.
Without looking at me, he scrolls through his phone again. Looking, I’m sure, for a taxi.
He holds the phone up to his ear, his shoulders tight, the line of his back tense. In exactly three seconds, “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” starts up again.
“Hello, Hollow Creek Taxi Service, how may I help you?”
Gavin spins around, an astonished expression on his face. “You?”
I smile at him, a cat in the cream. “Me.”
“Are you the only person that works in this town?” He seems absolutely outraged.